Page 18 of Backstage with a Billionaire Rockstar

Just as Jace’s solo is ending, which signals the end of the concert, he swivels his hips – a signature move – then throws his sweaty t-shirt into the crowd below. None of them claw for it, paying more attention to Jace’s glistening bare chest, and he saunters off the stage with the two of us while finishing off the last chords.

When we get backstage, Mia is already glued to my side and following my lead toward the dressing room. I already know the drill, so I hang back and let her push the door open to do a quick inspection. She comes back out, her gaze focused straight ahead, and I wink when her eyes fall onto my frame.

I chuckle when she rolls her eyes, then saunter into the dressing room to change my clothes.

It only takes a few minutes before I’m walking back out, greeted by Mia’s straight posture right next to the doorway, and I lean into the frame with a smile. “Awe, you waitin’ up for me, darlin’?”

She stiffens, but it only lasts a few seconds before she’s shaking her head and glaring at me. “What will it take for you to stop?”

I lean forward, my lips popped out for a kiss, and say, “A kiss makes everything go away, don’t you know?”

I’m waiting for her response, but when it doesn’t come, I pop an eye open and find her staring at my lips. There’s an emotion swirling in her eyes that I can’t point out and it’s gone before I can blink. “Let’s go, you need a shower.”

Without complaining, I follow her closely to the exit she had planned for me and bump into her shoulder playfully.

Mia huffs in annoyance but doesn’t say anything – that’s new. There’s already a car waiting outside for me and I hang back, earning a glare from my bodyguard that only makes me want her more.

She works for me. I shouldn’t feel this insane attraction, but I do.

At first, I wanted to rile her up and get a reaction out of her when I called her nicknames. Now though? I love the way it feels coming out of my mouth.

Love. That’s definitely not a word I should be using about someone I only just met.

“I don’t bite,” I say with a smirk, looking her up and down suggestively before wagging my eyebrows. “Unless you want me to.”

As we near the exit, the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. Something feels off. Mia must sense it, too; her easy stride becomes more purposeful, her eyes scanning our surroundings with heightened intensity.

Her face turns red, and I’m about to make another comment when she charges toward me. One second, I’m standing on the ground; the next, she’s got me knocked down with her frame covering mine. My length hardens when she pulls her gun out and aims straight ahead, a fierce look in her eyes that reminds me of the stare my mother used to give other parents when I was young.

Even though I’ve got the looks now, it hasn't always been that way. I was a chubby kid in school and the subject of bullying until I finally grew into myself in high school. Every time I’d walk through the door, crying to my mom about one of the other kids picking on me, she would demand to know who it was.

Each time, no matter what she had to do, she would show up to the school just as the bully was getting out of his parent's car, and she’d get into an argument with their parents. That look she would get – eyes blazing, face red as a tomato from anger, and posture more than ready to take anything on – is exactly how Mia looks right now.

It’s the mother in her, no doubt, and it’s only made her more attractive in a matter of seconds.

I’m so lost in my thoughts that I don’t realize she’s screaming at someone ahead of us with the gun still pointed up. “Put your hands up and slowly back away. Now!”

Mia’s tiny enough that I’m able to turn my head and catch sight of the crazed man standing right where I was at. He almost attacked me.

The man smirks, lifting his hands into the air slowly, and then he snaps his gaze down to me. He points a thin finger at me, turning it into a gun, then acts as though he’s pulling the trigger. Meanwhile, the exit is getting shoved open, and a swarm of security guards step out. While they restrain the man, red and blue lights illuminate the back alley with their sirens blaring loudly.

Mia pushes off me, brushing hair that fell in front of her face out of her eyes, then shoves a hand in my direction. I’m barely able to move, so I guess it’s a good thing she’s got the strength to lift me up when I place my palm into hers.

I stare at the crazed man, who’s smiling wider as he gets escorted past me by a police officer, and I shiver from how sinister it looks. If he wanted to, he could’ve easily taken me and Mia down. The guy comes to a stop, fighting to be taken further away, and he narrows his eyes at me.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get what’s coming to you, boy,” he sneers before allowing the officer to shove him into the back of his car.

My heart is hammering loudly, my mouth popped open in shock, and even though I see a hand moving in front of my face, I can’t bother to blink.

This is getting serious.

My mind races, replaying the man's sneer, his finger pointed at me like a gun. The adrenaline that's kept me going starts to fade, leaving me feeling hollow and shaky. I've dealt with overzealous fans before, but this? This is something else entirely. For the first time since I started this career, I feel genuinely afraid.

Not just for myself, but for my bandmates, for the crew... for Mia.

“Evan,” the voice says, cutting into the blood pumping in my ears. I try to shake it away, but it embeds itself further into me. “Evan, look at me.”

This time, I blink and realize my body is shaking uncontrollably. When I glance to my right, Mia is standing there with nothing but concern on her face, and she snaps her fingers in front of me.

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